"As it's getting late, and the porter may be gone to bed," he observed; "I'll take the pass-key, and let myself in. Wood and Thames pass him, and followed at a foot's pace behind them. Never did I need a rescue so much. I——” She threw herself into an easy chair. "I can never get poor Tom's last look out of my head, as he stood in the Stone-Hall at Newgate, after his irons had been knocked off, unless I manage to stupify myself somehow. “What has he to do with it?” “He was your sister’s master—her friend. There was granite in her face and agate in her eyes. ‘This is a private house,’ Hilary said severely, ‘and you are trespassing.
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